Beers and Beards: A Cozy Dwarf Tale

Chapter 22: Office Gossip

Chapter 22: Office Gossip

Grim adjusted the portrait on his desk as he thought.

The explosion on the outskirts of the camp had caused him no small amount of worry, and he’d sent some guards to go investigate. They’d reported finding a small workstation along with several containers of minerals and Pete and Balin limping back to camp with slight injuries. The guards had stayed hidden and watched as the two made their way into the kitchen. Pete and Balin had special permission to be in there, so they had allowed it, and the two of them were then followed to their cabin.

Now, one of them was sitting across from him, looking slightly singed.

“So Balin, tell me why yer here. What happened? Do ya need medical supplies?”

“Nah, I’m fine. Pete’s ‘gunpowder’ looks like it works. I told him ta go get cleaned up while I came an asked for an appointment.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“Very, but I think it’ll be useful.” Balin was an experienced carpenter, and about as good as a tradesman could get without being Titled. Grim trusted his opinion. If he said it would be useful, it likely was. It looked like the prison camp would soon be down two prisoners.

“Anything more?”

“Aye, he got a Title for makin’ it, [Alchemist]”

“Well, that must be some kind of record. Blessed to Titled within a year. A lot of Blessings going around this camp recently.” Grim pulled out a file folder and made a note “Anything else crop up? You look frazzled, and not just because of the burns.”

Balin paused for a moment and seemed to think before answering. “Just tha shock of the explosion. Lost me moustache again. I hope it regrows before we get out, but I don’t think so.”

“Do you think this ‘gunpowder’ is going to be worth a lot to tha city?”

“I can guarantee it.” Balin said, with an odd note of conviction. Grim looked him over. Balin was an honest dwarf, and Grim was glad to see him go. Dwarves like Balin needed to be reintegrated back into society as soon as they were ready, and it was getting to be about time. He was pleased that Balin and Pete were leaving together. That odd Dwarf would need someone like Balin to help keep him on the straight and narrow. On the other hand… he pulled out another folder.

“You had some concerns about Pete’s behaviour. Any changes?”

“He seems better now, he’s talkin about his plans again, and he’s got some clear goals.”

“When did it change?”

“Right when you called him in and he got tha charcoal.”

“Yes, I’d wanted to see for myself. He was less focused, and he’d lost a lot of his… edge. You'd say he's better?”

“Aye.”

Grim shuffled through some of the papers in his folder. Balin had approached him last month complaining about odd behaviour from Pete. Pete was already odd, but Balin had been insistent that it went beyond the ordinary. In fact, Sam and Doc Opal had both brought forward concerns of their own. Sam had said it looked suspiciously like some form of ‘forgetfulness’ Milestone. However, nobody in the camp had the necessary Title for something like that. A Blessing could only bring basic Milestones like [Power Pick]. A forgetfulness Milestone required a Title like [Swindler] or [Psion]. Dwarves with those Titles were not sent here; they would have been sent to the Capital prison. As for dwarves that fit the psych profile for something like that…

"He was givin’ silver to Tim?”

“Aye. Tim had a bit of a sore point with Pete at tha start but he seems to be more friendly now.”

Suspicious. Grim had Tim pegged as an ultra-traditionalist. The beard shaving was already odd, but getting buddy-buddy with a revolutionary like Pete was extremely out of character for Tim.

All dwarves were required to report any Blessings or Titles gained at the camp to the supervisor. It was easy to notice when someone received a Blessing from the glow they exuded, but sometimes one fell through the cracks. Grim had already put [Whisperer] Gemma onto keeping an eye on Tim. He made another note and added it to the file folder before putting it away.

There was a knock on the door.

“Who’s there?” Grim asked, and Balin shifted uncomfortably in his chair, like a child caught tattling to the principal.

“Pete sir, is now ok?”

Grim sighed and activated the Title Milestone he'd chosen, [Reduce Stress]. It was a small thing, but being a Titled [Administrator] could be hard on the heart. A Milestone like that could guarantee a long life. As the door opened to let in his erstwhile prisoner, Grim smiled at the thought of his new Title. Perhaps there would soon be three less dwarves at Minnova Prison Mine.

---

I pulled a brush through my beard and gave my armpits a quick sniff.

Right. I was as ready as I was ever going to be. No point in putting this off, let’s do it.

I walked up to Grim’s office and knocked. I didn’t see Balin about so I guess he was already inside.

I’d needed a moment to get prepared for this, and Balin had offered to go ahead. I was thankful, as it probably meant Grim was already mostly up to speed.

A voice came from inside. “Who’s there?”

“Pete sir, is now ok?”

“Aye, come in.”

I pushed open the door and made my way inside. Grim was seated behind his desk, looking well, grim. Balin was on a small chair in front. He waved at me as I entered.

“Thank you for seeing us Grim.” I said.

“No problem, Pete. I heard your little experiment go off, so I assume you two are here to talk gold?”

“Yes sir!” Balin and I said in unison.

Grim nodded and his straight edge moustache twitched back and forth. “I’ve already heard from Balin, Pete. How ‘bout you tell me yerself?”

I looked at Balin. Was my shame safe Balin, how much did you tell him? Balin waggled his eyebrows at me. I’d take that to mean my forced Blessing was a secret for now. I trusted that Balin didn't think it was a big deal, but he’s a pretty forward-thinking Dwarf. I already had a reputation as a bit of a weirdo in this camp, and I didn't want people thinking that even the Gods think I’m weird.

“Okay.” I grabbed a seat next to Balin. “I used the charcoal you got me to finish making my gunpowder.”

“Why ‘gun’-powder?” Grim asked.

“I’ve been wonderin meself.” Balin agreed. The two of them turned to look at me. Uh…

“I don’t remember,” The old standby! That’ll do it. “I just remember it as having that name. Maybe the person who taught it to me was named gun?”

Balin opened his mouth to talk, but paused for a moment. His eyes took on a slightly hurt look. Uh oh. I think Balin suspects something is up. Once I start making beer at Annie’s my ‘amnesia’ schtick just isn’t going to work. Grim is part of the government, and I don’t think it’s a good idea to tell him, but I think I need to talk to Balin. Sooner, rather than later. Magic and Gods are real, so maybe transmigration isn’t unheard of?

“Doesn’t matter.” Grim pulled out a form from his desk and laid it on the table. “Alright. Prisoner: Peter Samson. Invention for consideration: ‘Gunpowder’. Ingredients: 'Potassium Nitrate, Charcoal, Sulfur in 75/12.5/12.5 ratio' Date created: Barday the 16th of Yearn 9997.”

“Oh, hey! It’s three years to the deca-millenial? Or whatever?” I asked. That was neat! Balin and Grim turned to look at me, and Balin put his face in his hands.

“Pete, you don’t know what year it is?” Grim asked, his scowl deepening.

“I mean, I’m pretty sure Opal taught me," I fidgeted. Hey you try learning about an entire world in under a year! "There’s just been a lot going on and I’ve been kinda forgetful lately.” Grim and Balin exchanged a glance. “Still, 10000 years huh?”

“Yes.” Grim put down his quill for a moment. “There are celebrations planned at the Capital. They’ll last for an entire year. I’m planning to go with my wife and her family. Perhaps you’ll have an opportunity to go yourself.” He smiled, a rare occurrence.

“What kind of celebrations?” Balin asked, sitting forward on his chair.

“There’ll be a gladiatorial combat in the colosseum. I hear they’re bringin in some monsters fer them to fight.” Grim hummed and hawwed a bit. “Some art and culture competitions. I think it’ll be a good chance fer you to get yer memories back Pete. There’ll probably be a [Hypnotist] or two there.”

“Good idea. Thanks, Grim.”

“Now, where were we?” Grim looked down at his form. “What’s the use of this powder Pete?”

“It can be used for rapid mining and it has some other uses.” I mean, I was never going to talk about those uses, though I may try and make fireworks into a thing. Especially if there’s a big celebration happening soon.

“Use: Mining and other. How do we make it work?”

“Um. I think you take some barrels, fill ‘em with gunpowder, and then light them?” I wasn’t too sure on that. I’d never actually seen or heard of how gunpowder was used in mining other than video games. "I know that it works best in enclosed spaces."

Grim put his quill down. “You don’t sound very sure Pete.”

“I’m… kind of not. Gunpowder is very powerful and it can move a lot of rock at once, but I’m not sure about the engineering of it.”

“That’s fine.” Grim made another note. “I can get the [Engineers] to work on it, but your share of any gold for the invention will be reduced.”

“As long as it’s enough to get me and Balin out, I don’t care.”

“Good. Balin mentioned that it’s explosive? How ya gonna set it off? Some dwarf just needs ta stand next to some exploding barrels and toss on a taper?” Grim muttered darkly, “You volunteerin?”

“It just needs a fuse.”

“A fuse?” Balin and Grim asked in unison. Balin grinned and Grim scowled. Tiara’s teats… I had forlornly hoped that fuses or some kind of analog already existed.

“I can probably figure it out. I’ll just need some supplies.” I could maybe figure it out. Hopefully my new [Alchemist] powers would help me out there, but I had my doubts about anything provided by Barck the Bastard.

“Alright, you go ahead and do that. Let me know when you’re ready to show it off.” Balin nodded and held his hand out, indicating we were done, “Anythin’ else?”

“Oh, I got a Title!” I seemed to recall Opal saying we were required to report those. “I’m a Titled [Alchemist] now!”

“Good fer you.” Grim turned to look at his work. “Yer dismissed.”

Balin got up and the two of us turned to leave. As we made our way out the door Grim called out.

“Pete, if ya need any supplies, do it through me. Got it?”

“Yessir!”

“Good. I don’t want to hear about any fights at yer Blessin party. Got it?”

“Yessir!” I lied. There were always fights. He knew that and I knew that.

“Now git!”

Balin and I made our way out of the office. Him oddly stressed, me buzzing with hope. Soon!